


Core Collapse

by porcelain_cats



Series: Welcum 2... The Clone Zone [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1 hux 3 clones, Good Boy, Huxcest, M/M, Manipulation, RIDICULOUSLY MELODRAMATIC, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, heavily implied orgasm, hux is a megalomaniac and a psychopath, incredibly overdone religious imagery, kylo gets beat up and fondled in equal measure, kylo need tha pain only hux can give him, they are both so Extra TM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7226149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelain_cats/pseuds/porcelain_cats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo gains a new master and Hux gains a new servant.</p><p>[I'm goin 2 hell goodbye 4ever.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Core Collapse

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self-indulgent schlock I've ever created. It's pure garbage and probably super derivative lmao. Also Hux having peroneal nerve dysfunction has like no bearing on the story, I'm just a sicko who needs to shove leg braces on everybody  
> Think of this as a companion piece to this other hot mess I made (gore tw): http://horatiosroom.tumblr.com/post/144536699019/i-thought-you-hated-clones-i-only-wish-to
> 
> Unbeta'd because I'm too embarrassed kill me

General Hux stood near the large window of his private quarters on Starkiller Base, watching as the heavy blankets of snow glistened a warm peach under the sunrise. He was dressed in black regulation underclothes - a sleeveless undershirt and a pair of short boxers - enjoying the chill of the early morning. This was his favorite time of day. He preferred the quiet neatness of preparing for the busy day ahead as opposed to winding down; the promise of productivity was always more palatable than reflecting on what didn’t get finished.

“General, shall we commence the standard morning preparations?”

Hux turned to face the other man in the room and smiled gratefully. “Yes, thank you H1.”

“Of course, sir.”

As the general stepped into the center of the room, another man entered from a door connecting to the bedroom carrying a garment bag in one hand and a hat box under the other arm.

“I’ve had your uniform cleaned and pressed, just as you asked.”

The second man approached Hux and began to lay out each piece of the uniform on the sleek couch behind him.

“Perfect as always, H2.”

H2 nodded in deference and continued to sort out the garments and accessories while H1 assisted the general with a series of light stretches, followed by the application of a minty face mask- _let sit for two minutes, then wipe off gently with a cool washcloth._ To some this constant barrage of icy cold would seem excessive, but Hux luxuriated in it. He adored the cold even though his lithe frame was ill equipped to withstand it.

A third and final man entered the room, heading straight for a hidden panel on the wall which slid out and open when he pressed it, revealing a pair of boots and a handful of other accoutrements. He grabbed the contents of the compartment and closed it, pausing to ask, “Would you prefer your boots to be shined before or after you put them on, General?”

Hux balked at the question. “I believe you know my preference, H3.”

H1 finished removing the mask and H2 handed Hux a solid black turtleneck. H3 bowed slightly in apology, “Of course, sir. Please pardon my carelessness.”

Hux pulled on the turtleneck and adjusted it, then waved his hand dismissively at H3. H2 knelt down to slide a black sock onto the general’s foot. “It’s quite alright, I know you only wish to please me. As the newest, I should not expect you to remember all of my… _particular_ proclivities.”

“Thank you, sir. I will strive to do better in the future.”

The ritual carried on in a similar fashion with H1 cleaning up the materials used for the mask, H2 dressing the general, and H3 assisting H2 by fastening garters to Hux’s socks and lacing an archaic brace to one of his slim legs - the brace was oddly out of place among the rest of Hux’s streamlined wardrobe, but he seemed to take pleasure in the slow, methodical way it had to be secured. With medical advancements as they were, Hux probably didn’t even need the brace, but he continued to wear it. He never felt like he needed to be repaired since there was nothing at fault with him to begin with. A perfect specimen of the human species, destined to become Emperor of the galaxy; peroneal nerve dysfunction only helped to ground him.

Being such a perfect specimen, Hux only entrusted his crucial morning tasks to ones as exemplary as himself. Luckily for the general there were three of him, all nearly as intelligent as the original and programmed to serve him and him alone.

Now fully dressed, Hux reclined on the sofa while H3 knelt down in front of him, handing the general a pair of lacquered boot hooks. H1 stood behind the couch to tend to the general’s hair while whispering praises into his ear, only stopping briefly to allow him to pull on his boots. “If I may say so sir, you look especially radiant this morning. The crown jewel of the First Order; they’re incredibly privileged to have your leadership.”

Hux’s content expression soured and he bit out, “You flatter me, H1, but we all know who is truly favored by the Supreme Leader.”

The three clones adopted matching sneers as all four Huxes’ thoughts zeroed in on the singular subject of their disgust-

_Ren_ .

As if on cue, the buzz of the commlink rung once through the general’s quarters then countless times in rapid succession, wresting an exasperated huff from each Hux simultaneously.

H2 strode from the bedroom’s modest walk-in closet, where he had been returning the now empty garment bag, toward the entrance to Hux’s quarters. He stopped before entering the tiny foyer to determine the general’s desired course of action. “Shall I see who it is, general?”

Hux bit his bottom lip and scrunched up his nose, agitated by the interruption of his beloved routine and the incessant buzzing of the commlink. He seethed for a few moments before returning to a more placid countenance and finally answered H2, “I suppose…” then, to the remaining two clones he ordered, “Continue your duties as usual unless and _until_ I tell you to stop.” H1 and H3 nodded and resumed their designated tasks. “This had better be important…”

“It’s _Ren_ ,” H2 ground out, his voice slightly muffled in the foyer and his ‘r’ rolling with pure, unadulterated loathing.

Hux tensed abruptly at the name. His hands balled into tight fists making the fine leather of his gloves squeak.

H1 bent slightly to press his lips to Hux’s temple, eliciting a shaky sigh from the general. “Don’t allow our _visitor_ to spoil your morning, general. He isn’t worth the expenditure of energy.” H1 leaned down further to nip gently at the juncture between Hux’s jaw and neck, coaxing him to relax a little more. H3 took notice of the general’s reactions to H1’s pampering and applied that level of care to the boots he was in the process of shining.

Pushing one of the buttons on the comm next to the door, H2 addressed Ren, “One buzz was quite sufficient, Lord Ren.” The small security feed on the comm panel showed Ren winding up like he was preparing to strike the door with his fists.

Which he did, to each Hux’s dismay.

The pounding continued. “Open the door, Hux. You’re lucky I didn’t just cut through it!”

“Sir?” H2 asked.

“Let him in. Let’s get this over with.”

The moment the door opened wide enough, Ren stomped through, knocking into H2 with his shoulder. He grabbed H2 by the fabric of his shirt and slammed him into the wall of the foyer, hoping to rattle him, but the clone remained unphased. A distorted, glitchy growl came from Ren’s scarred helmet. “Why did you order the squadron of troopers to retreat?!”

H2 stared condescendingly into the slit where Ren’s eyes would be if he wasn’t wearing that hideous helmet. “I suggest you mind your tone with me, _boy_ . I don’t take kindly to the whining of _petulant children_.”

“I can speak to you however I want, Hux, Master said we are of equal rank. You hold no power over me,” Ren all but grunted. He shoved an accusing finger into H2’s chest. “That was _my_ mission to command! You pulled those troopers out and caused two of my knights to suffer nearly fatal injuries.”

“And those were _my_ troopers that you sent into an obvious trap! You had the _gall_ to risk the lives of one of my most promising squadrons just so you could… what? Find an artifact that _may not even exist?_ I won’t pretend to understand the importance of ancient magical relics written about in Jedi _storybooks_ , but don’t think that I’ll sit by and watch you undermine my authority. You think that because you kiss Snoke’s  _shriveled alien ass_ that you have the right to toss my valuable property around like toys amidst a tantrum? You and your ridiculous “equal rank” are a complete and utter farce. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did more than just kiss Snoke’s ass; you probably suck his flaccid cock too, _you little whore.”_

In his rage, Ren didn’t notice the origin of the venomous outburst, but when it had finished he felt the oppressive pulsating energy of Hux’s ire…

And it wasn’t coming from the man in front of him.

Ren immediately reached out with the force to investigate. He stepped carefully through the small curved hallway leading into the main living space of Hux’s quarters, trying to feel out the disturbance. The energy of the room slowly began to sort itself into four nearly identical masses until he could see the backs of the three other occupants that he hadn’t sensed upon his initial arrival.

“Come here, Ren,” drawled one of the voices from the couch in the center of the room. “And take off that repulsive helmet. If you wish to speak to me, you’ll do so as the mortal that you are, not the untouchable beast you pretend to be.”

Ren tentatively disengaged the mechanism of his helmet and dropped it unceremoniously, barely registering the heavy metallic _clang_ as it hit the floor.

Something was amiss. The reason lurked just behind Ren’s consciousness, like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue, but his flurry of emotion at the beginning of this encounter made it more difficult to bait. Hux had opened the door. Ren had yelled at him. The voice that berated Ren so thoroughly belonged to Hux, there was no mistaking that, as did the one beckoning to him now. He felt like a trick was being played on him, perhaps as extra humiliation on top of the failure of his mission. As he rounded the side of the couch, he kept his eyes to the floor, afraid of the mockery that would be made of him. _So much for asserting my dominance_ , he thought.

Ren stood a few feet away from the couch and finally allowed his eyes to timidly move up along the trio in front of him. What he saw was startling-

Before him sat General Hux, dressed in his full regalia, greatcoat and hat included. One leg was poised daintily across the knee of the other, showcasing one of his highly-polished, custom-made boots. The general rested his head on one of his gloved hands, supported by the arm of the sofa. Though he was gazing upwards to lock eyes with Ren his reclined posture exuded the confidence of royalty, and the steely yet detached glare made him look like a cruel, merciless god taking his sweet time to dole out punishment.

All of this was not what really startled Ren, however. What he found most unsettling was the fact that the other two men had Hux’s face - not just the other two… the other _three_. The Hux that he threw against the wall only moments ago had sauntered into the room, smoothing down his rumpled shirt and sitting beside the Hux on the couch.

Ren’s mind felt like it was being squashed and stretched and tied into knots. Why were there four Huxes? Why was one Hux on the floor shining the boot of the one in the coat? And why the _hell_ was the latter Hux allowing the one behind him to mouth at his neck so obscenely? That extra bit of skin above the general’s starched collar was so compelling that Ren almost missed it when the Hux on the floor spoke.

“Our dear Lord Ren has such large, _pathetic_ eyes, wouldn’t you agree H2?”

H2 smirked and replied, “Absolutely. He looks as if he might cry. Poor, pitiful thing.” He reached a delicate hand out to rest on the knee of Hux next to him, using his thumb to stroke the brace underneath the general’s jodhpurs.

The sickeningly affectionate Hux raised his head and laughed, still too close to the general for Ren’s taste. “I think we surprised him, sir.”

Ren stood frozen in place as the four ginger generals tittered with laughter. Maybe this was just a nightmare, old insecurities cropping back up as a result of his failed mission. He could only hope as much… but it all felt too real.

Ren was well acquainted with the phantoms of his past. Their forms in his nightmares pushed him away into a murky abyss, trapping him in the inky tendrils of disappointment and abandoning him. He would always wake from these dreams with the residue of the abyss that held him and forced him to watch as his phantoms carried on with their lives. Love, laughter, understanding. All in the Light that he had to be constantly reminded of.

There was no Light here.

The Hux in the coat - Ren was fairly certain this was the Hux he knew - stopped laughing and silenced the other three with a wave of his hand. “Well? You burst into my private quarters hurling petty accusations at me and now you have nothing to say? This has been an incredible waste of -”

“DO YOU EVER SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” Ren panted after his violent eruption, chest heaving and back hunched like some feral creature in the wilderness.

The room went silent for a moment, then Hux stood up abruptly and crossed the short distance between himself and Ren, proceeding to slap the knight. _Hard_. Surprised by the strike and confused by the entire situation, Ren failed to avoid the swift punch to his gut which knocked him onto his knees. The pain was exacerbated by the large blaster wound he had sustained while moving one of his knights to safety during their botched mission. The wound had only just begun to heal and he could feel the nu-skin strain beneath his bandages.

Ren clutched at his stomach trying to will the pain away until he felt the weight of Hux’s boot on his back. The general shoved him face-first onto the floor, breaking Ren’s nose in the process. A rush of blood spurt out onto the pristine tiles, filling the grooves between the perfect squares.

Hux flipped Ren onto his side with the toe of his boot and stomped on his shoulder and abdomen for good measure. Before the abused knight could curl in on himself again, Hux knelt down next to him and lifted his chin, gripping it tightly and holding it at such an angle that it put extra strain on Ren’s neck.

“How about you try again, _Kylo_... now that you’re where you belong.”

Ren’s head was pounding, breath coming out in short, labored wheezes and eyes struggling to focus on the man above him.

_“Speak, boy.”_

The grip on Ren’s chin tightened even further and Hux spit in his face. Ren had never felt so degraded, so dominated. In that moment he was a lowly dog; a rat, a maggot, a singular speck of excrement on the bottom of the general’s boot. He had never seen such brutality from the general, never thought it possible, but what Hux lacked in physical strength he made up for in control. Both Ren and Hux were motivated by unparalleled rage, but Hux’s wasn’t dampened by doubt or guilt or sadness or longing. There was nothing apparent that he should be furious about and yet that was his natural state; precise, unfiltered hatred.

Hux violently shoved his fingers into Ren’s mouth and yanked, almost dislocating Ren’s jaw. The blood from Ren’s busted nose had started to congeal and felt slimy as it got smeared across his lips and chin.

Ren sputtered in an attempt to say something, _anything_ , but couldn’t find the words. It frightened him how quickly he submitted to the general’s abuse, like he wanted to be punished for his failings but didn’t know how to ask. It was easy with Snoke; impersonal. His master made him suffer from afar without the hope of catharsis. Left in that sticky abyss that never ceased to remind him of the Light.

Hux though…

Hux’s technique was intimate; borderline sensual in the way he touched Ren without hesitation, or leaned in so close that their lips almost touched only to then spit on him again. The pain Hux inflicted would ebb, morphing into a teasing caress then transforming once again into pointedly aimed viciousness. One minute his voice would drop to a low purr, then explode into a savage bark. In a brief moment of amused madness, Ren thought to himself that Hux might be even better at tearing down morale than building it up. Perhaps the propaganda of the First Order should be used to break the will of the Resistance rather than bolster that of its own troops.

Ren’s attention was so focused on Hux that he almost forgot about the three other Huxes casually watching the spectacle on the floor in front of them.

H1 gave Ren a look of mock-concern and walked over to kneel beside him. “I would suggest that you answer your general, Lord Ren.” He ran his thumb thoughtfully against Ren’s bared and bloodied teeth. “Don’t you want to apologize to us? You’ve been so _bad_ , after all.”

Ren nodded his head rapidly in assent. He _did_ want to apologize. He wanted to apologize and release his failure and _move on_. Ren looked away from H1 and back to Hux and rasped, “Hux, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I spoke so disrespectfully to you! Y-you were right to be upset with me. I shouldn’t have taken that squadron with me, they aren’t mine to command. I’m sorry, Hux, I’m so sorry…”

Hux’s gaze was impassive during the entirety of Ren’s apology. Ren was disheartened. _Have I failed at this too?_

The hand in his hair and grip on his chin were released as Hux moved to stand by the wall, and Ren felt a new pair of hands maneuvering his aching body into a seated position. He slumped against the clone behind him, too tired to try to hold himself up. A small part of him was grateful to relinquish his autonomy, even if he was at the mercy of four ruthless generals.

The clone spoke softly, breath ghosting over Ren’s cheek, “You say that you’re sorry for disrespecting us, but you don’t even address us properly. You’re better than that, Kylo. _I_ might be more lenient with you about this because I’m the newest of us here, but the rest of us have higher expectations when it comes to respect.” The clone - now identified as H3 - let his hands wander soothingly up and down Ren’s tunic, every once in awhile stopping to prod at the blaster wound as a reminder of who was in charge. As if Ren could forget. “Go on, my Lord, how should you have addressed us? I know you know…”

“I-I’m sorry… General. General, please forgive me, please. I didn’t mean any disrespect. Please.”

H3 hummed in consideration. “Hm, _better_ …”

Relief washed over Ren, but receded seconds later. “Agh!” H3 dug his hand into Ren’s blaster wound, long fingers threatening to break the skin.

“...but that was _a lie_ ,” hissed H2.

Ren’s eyes widened in panic and anticipation as H2 left the couch and straddled the knight’s thighs. It was all so overwhelming with the three clones surrounding him. H1 toying with his hair, H3 holding him up and groping at his stomach, and H2 sitting in his lap, thumbs digging painfully into the tops of his hips, surely leaving bruises in their wake.

“You’re right, General, I’m sorry! I _was_ trying to be rude on purpose, to make you mad, m-make you listen to me… I was upset about failing my mission and then - _ah!”_ H2’s thumbs stopped digging into Ren’s hips in favor of rubbing them in slow, tortuous circles. “A-and then, and then my knights, I was worried for t-th-them - hn, _f-fuck…_ ” H3’s hands found their way beneath Ren’s robes to forcefully palm at his wound. “I didn’t know that there were so - so many of you. I didn’t know what was going on, I’m sorry, general, please!”

Ren felt as though the force had left him - escaping with every apology, every euphoric sigh, swirling around the room with the turbulence of a heavy storm. His body and mind emptied themselves of past memories and future fears. Once again Ren was thrust into darkness, but this wasn’t the deep, entrenching darkness of the abyss. This was the darkness of the void; vast, untethered, all-consuming with no traces left of what it had consumed. The Light couldn’t illuminate the void because there was nothing in it to illuminate.

In that moment Ren was free.

He closed his eyes, letting the sensations that Hux’s clones so graciously gifted to him devour him whole. He couldn’t keep track of all of the information that his brain tried to process. It presented itself as a rapidly morphing collage of arousal, pain, _slut, glutton for punishment_ , arousal, _so sweet… even inside_ , pain, pain, agonizing pain, _let us take care of you, please, please take care of me, I want it, I want you, please,_ ** _God_** -

Like a deity parting the sea, Hux - the original, numberless and divine - took the place of H2 in front of Ren while his clones silently retreated.

Ren was now on his back, eyes fluttering open to worship the man above him. The sun was higher in the sky, becoming a halo behind Hux’s rare red-gold hair.

The general breathed heavily, shuddering as he rested his forehead upon Ren’s. His light eyelashes nearly disappeared atop his flushed cheeks when he closed his eyes. It took every fiber of Ren’s being not to kiss him. _I’m unworthy_.

Hux whispered so softly that Ren was unsure he had said anything at all. “ _Say it again_ … the _proper_ way to address me.”

Ren floundered, speechless.

Hux opened his eyes and trained them on Kylo’s, commanding him to pass through the void. His entire body vibrated with power.

_“Say it, Kylo.”_

_“...God.”_

The general glowed in the midmorning light while his eyes glassed over and breath hitched, gasping shallowly. Ren had never witnessed such ecstasy before and was on the precipice of his own.

Hux sat back up, but kept unflinching eye contact with the knight. Ren could feel something incredibly warm bloom inside of him as Hux looked down at him. There was a softness in the look, maybe even a fondness, that ignited the modest warmth within Ren until he was _burning burning burning_ and then-

The general’s lips quirked up at the corners into a small, heavenly grin. With that sacred mouth Hux moaned, blessing Ren with two words of inelegant praise that collapsed the knight’s core like a supernova,

_“Good boy.”_

**Author's Note:**

> u kno they nutted


End file.
